


Blue Kisses

by CosmicZombie



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 11:32:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3172698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicZombie/pseuds/CosmicZombie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Your lips are blue,” Jimmy said softly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Kisses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts), [betsey_trotwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betsey_trotwood/gifts).



> Moleslay and betseytrotwood's prompt over on tumblr for ‘keeping the other person warm’ from this: http://afewreelthoughts.tumblr.com/post/107942874547/cuddle-up-a-little-closer-a-domesticity-intimacy. 
> 
> I don’t know the precise definition for a ficlet, but I’m pretty sure this exceeds the word limit a little. Oh well, writing shameless fluff always cheers me up! Hope you enjoy, and as always, feedback is lovely! <3

 

 

It wasn’t actually snowing— it was more of a raw, driving sleet that lashed icily down on the deserted platform. Thomas winced as a particularly bitter gust of wind swept a sheet of icy rain under the eaves of the shelter, and pulled his coat more closely around himself, taking a drag of his cigarette.

 

“I think my fingers are going to fall off,” Jimmy snapped, wriggling around on the bench beside Thomas. His cheeks were stung pink from the cold, and his blonde hair was slightly tousled from the wind and sleet, curling around his ears and the nape of his neck. Thomas couldn’t help thinking that he looked completely wonderful with his usually pomaded hair soft and natural and his lips red and chapped from the January wind. But, Thomas thought sadly, if he’d a penny for every time he thought Jimmy looked wonderful, he would no longer need to work.

 

“You should have worn gloves,” Thomas said instead, rather than voicing what he was thinking. It was easier, that way. Even though they both knew they existed, if Thomas wanted to stay friends with Jimmy, he had accepted that he would never be able to voice his true feelings.

 

“Well, how was I supposed to know the motor was going to break down and we’d be stuck here for hours?” Jimmy retorted irritably, cupping his hands to his mouth and blowing on them to try and warm them up.

 

They had been waiting at a desolate little country station just outside York for the motor to pick them up for the past two hours. The motor had been delayed, and consequently, Thomas and Jimmy were left waiting alone in the middle of nowhere in the bitterly cold January evening.

 

“Here, have mine,” Thomas sighed, pulling off his own gloves and handing them to Jimmy. The cold stung his fingers, making the old wound in his left hand ache, but he ignored it.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jimmy snapped, glaring at Thomas and not budging. He frequently became impracticably stubborn whenever Thomas would be chivalrous towards him, as if by resenting it so strongly Thomas’ feelings, they would cease to exist. There was a time when Thomas had gone by that hope too— but not now.

 

“I’m not being ridiculous,” Thomas replied through gritted teeth, exhaling smoke through his nose. “You’re cold, I’m not. Take the bloody gloves.”

 

“Don’t lie, Mr. Barrow,” Jimmy rolled his eyes. “Of course you’re cold. It’s _January_ and we’ve been sitting in the sleet for hours. I can practically feel you shivering from over here. So no, I don’t want your bloody gloves, _thank you_.”

 

“So much for trying to be nice,” Thomas raised his eyebrows, taking another drag of his cigarette and looking away with a cold feeling settling somewhere between his lungs the way it always did when Jimmy rejected him in this way.

  
“It’s got nothing to do with niceness— it’s got to do with you always putting me before yourself,” Jimmy said crossly, staring accusingly at Thomas with those bright blue eyes that had started it all. “You have no right, Mr. Barrow.”

 

“I would have thought that was my decision to make,” Thomas said, trying for a light tone, but his heart was thumping and his hand shook slightly as he raised his cigarette up to his lips.

 

“Well, it’s not,” Jimmy said fiercely. “Why should you be cold just so I can be warm? We should both be equal. I’m no better than you.”

 

“So you’re saying that we should both slowly freeze to death while we wait for a motor that’s possibly never going to get here?” Thomas raised his eyebrows coolly.

 

“If you prefer,” Jimmy shrugged. “Personally, I was going to suggest conservation of body heat.”

 

“… Excuse me?” Thomas blinked, staring uncomprehendingly at Jimmy.

 

Jimmy rolled his eyes, somehow managing to look ridiculously adorable with his bright pink nose and ruffled blonde hair and indignant expression. “I’m going to sit on your lap, Mr. Barrow,” he announced calmly, as if it was the most obvious solution in the world. Thomas promptly choked on his lungful of smoke.

 

Before he had the time to stop choking and protest, Jimmy was scooting across the bench and hooking his legs over Thomas’ lap, huddling into the side of Thomas’ jacket and tugging it closer to him. Thomas managed to clear his airways of cigarette smoke only to feel as though his heart was trying to break free of his chest. He could feel the overwhelming warmth of Jimmy’s shoulder pressed up against his, and smell the intoxicating scent of the other man’s cologne and the pomade that Thomas saw sitting on Jimmy’s dresser whenever they sat up late playing card games. Thomas spent every night dreaming of being as close to Jimmy as this, but now that he was, he didn’t know what to do.

 

“Relax, Thomas,” Jimmy said, his voice slightly softer than it had been a moment before, as though he’d read Thomas’ mind. He was staring up at Thomas with wide blue eyes and impossibly perfect features. “I don’t bite,” he grinned.

 

_I wouldn’t mind if you did_ , Thomas almost said, but instead merely took a shaky drag of his cigarette, not meeting Jimmy’s intent blue gaze. It hurt Thomas’ heart to look at him because he could not express the happiness that it gave him.

 

“Your lips are blue,” Jimmy said, softly. Thomas didn’t dare look at him for fear that if he did he would say something he would regret— but he could feel Jimmy’s gaze was still on him, warm and intent.

 

“So are yours,” Thomas replied, trying very much not to focus on the though of Jimmy’s perfect, pink lips.

 

Jimmy didn’t say anything, but shifted very slightly against him, and Thomas felt him move almost imperceptibly closer.

 

“Are— are you sure you don’t want my gloves?” Thomas stammered, hoping very much that Jimmy couldn’t feel the way his heart was pounding under the material of his coat. He felt out of his depth, lost in everything he wanted too much.

 

“Yes,” Jimmy said fiercely.

 

“How about one each?” Thomas suggested shakily, taking a final drag of his cigarette and casting it to the sleety ground. “That way we’re both equal, just as you’re so keen on.”

 

Jimmy seemed to consider for a moment, before nodding slightly. “Alright.”

 

Obligingly, Thomas tugged off his right glove and handed it to Jimmy, trying not to shiver as he felt the warm brush of Jimmy’s fingers against his that sent sparks shooting up his spine.

 

“Thanks,” Jimmy said quietly, tugging the glove on. Before Thomas could move back, Jimmy suddenly grabbed Thomas’ exposed hand with his one, interlacing their fingers. Thomas’ heart leapt to his throat and he stared down at their intertwined fingers in shock, at his own long, pale ones clasped in Jimmy’s raw, red ones.

 

“Jimmy… what are you doing?” The question came out more breathlessly than he had intended, and Thomas’ heart was suddenly beating so fast he felt dizzy.  

 

“Conservation of body heat,” Jimmy replied determinedly. He squeezed Thomas’ hand slightly as he said it and nudged up closer to him, making Thomas’ stomach twist with nerves and longing.

 

Thomas didn’t know what to say— his heart was racing in his chest and he wanted nothing more than to squeeze back, but he didn’t dare, in case he’d imagined it, and Jimmy took it completely the wrong way. He didn’t trust himself not to ruin things all over again— and he couldn’t, he _wouldn’t_ lose Jimmy a second time.

 

“See, isn’t your hand warmer now?” Jimmy demanded, squeezing Thomas’ fingers again for emphasis. Wordlessly, Thomas nodded. He barely even registered how cold it was anymore; the points where Jimmy was pressed against him felt as though they were red hot, and his cheeks were flushed from the fevered beat of his heart. He hoped Jimmy thought that it was only due to the bitter wind, rather than their proximity.

 

“Your lips are still blue, though,” Jimmy said quietly, his voice lower than it usually was. Thomas could feel the vibrations of it in Jimmy’s chest where Jimmy was pressed against him, and it made Thomas’ stomach flutter and his chest ache with longing. Against his will, he looked at Jimmy, and felt a powerful surge of longing wash over him. Jimmy’s face was only inches away from his; Thomas could taste the ale they’d had in York on Jimmy’s warm, shallow breaths that brushed his lips and the feeling made his heart rate skyrocket. Jimmy’s eyes were wide and blue in the dwindling January light, their pupils wide and blown like supernova in the night’s sky.

 

Thomas felt his breath catch in his lungs as slowly, very deliberately, Jimmy disentangled his fingers from Thomas’. And then he was carefully tracing Thomas’ lips with his index finger, soft and slow, as though he was mapping out constellations. Thomas felt his eyes flutter shut for a split second at the sensation of Jimmy’s soft, slightly callused skin against his mouth. His heart was beating so fast that he was afraid Jimmy could hear it, and longing tugged at his chest, so powerfully it almost physically hurt.

 

“Jimmy?” Thomas whispered anxiously, staring imploringly at Jimmy, whose blue gaze had taken on an intense, warm quality Thomas had never seen in them before. And then they fluttered closed, shutting down all possibility of answers, and Jimmy slowly, softly pressed his lips against Thomas’.

 

Thomas felt as though his world had exploded around him. The sleet was still lashing down around them, his heart was thumping and thumping and thumping as though it would never stop, and his cheeks stung from the cold— but none of that even seemed real. Nothing seemed real— apart from the soft, gentle pressure of Jimmy’s warm lips against his. Thomas felt a lump rising in his throat as Jimmy gripped his jaw tenderly, tilting Thomas’ jaw and deepening the kiss so that it was soft and intense and hot all at once. Tentatively, Thomas responded by sliding his hands round Jimmy’s waist and pulling him gently closer so that he could feel the warmth of the other man’s body pressed so closely against his it no longer seemed to matter whose warmth it was or whose heartbeat was racing faster.

 

It was so wonderfully, painfully, ecstatically real, that it was as though it had to render everything else around them irrelevant. Thomas felt as though his heart was going to burst out of his chest as they kissed slowly, deeply, the sleet crashing down on the platform beside them.

 

After a few moments, Jimmy broke away, pressing one last kiss against Thomas’ mouth. His eyes fluttered open, and Thomas felt as though his world had exploded around him all over again.

 

“I’m not cold anymore,” Jimmy said softly, his blue eyes glittering elatedly.

 

“Me neither,” Thomas murmured dazedly, heart still thundering in his chest.

 

And as Jimmy leant forward to kiss him again, Thomas felt certain that he would never feel the cold again.

 

 

 


End file.
